Karel's story
by Ephidel
Summary: Who is Karel? or rather... who was he?
1. Chapter 1

Karel's Story 

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem THEIRS. This story MINE!

Chapter 1

A small boy, no more than 5 years old, named Karel, running mindlessly through the plains of Sacae, carried with him, what he thought to be, a heavy package wrapped in countless bandages. Despite the extra weight, he was grinning wildly. He jumped into the air -

"Yay! Yay! I finally got a real sword!"

The sun was setting on the grassy plains. A million hues of red and gold swept across the sky and painted the clouds a seemingly permanent tinge of murky scarlet; it seemed almost blood-like. As the great star so painstakingly lowered itself unto the horizon, a cold breeze strikingly different from the signature warm zephyrs that so oft roam the plains of Hanon the horseman descended upon the land.

"Karel, don't be so cheerful." stated a calm, yet serious voice.

Immediately upon hearing the stern voice of his father, Karel turned and bowed deeply. Karel's father was not a man to be crossed. He was always very stern, yet never angry. He tolerated little before being irritated. However, if he ever was angry… Karel would say that many a monster now prowled his sleep on account of his father.

"Why is that Father?"

A manic grin spread upon the man's face, contorted in anticipation.

"Because… Your training begins tomorrow!"

Time passes 

Next day…

"Aww! You mean I got ready for training only for nothing?"

"What do you mean 'nothing'? This part of the training is the most important of all."

"B-b-but it's just weight training! It's so boring!"

"Silence! Weight training is vital to becoming an excellent swordsman! Without it, you could barely hold a sword, let alone use one in battle. Also, weight training also you to become simply stronger and faster."

A sudden quiet filled the area. Karel's mouth ceased to move hanging slightly open – digesting the information. The birds in the trees stopped chirping. All that could be heard was the wind winding its way through the tall grass.

"Hmph. Very well then, you shall start with 5 pounds on each of your arms and legs."

"But that's so little. I want to get strong faster!"

The words 'I want to get strong faster' repeated themselves in Karel's father's head. For just one moment, he saw himself exactly as Karel, wide-eyed and bright. That was before those dark times came…

At the sight of his father in a daze, Karel repeated his words,

"I want to get strong faster!"

Snapping to attention, Karel's father replied,

"Calm down and take things in steps. For your five-year-old body, a sum of twenty pounds actually a large amount of weight. After all, a sword, at most weighs six. Besides, you can't just take a huge amount of weight at a time, steps are always necessary."

Karel's father, Krael, was a handsome, calm man. He was neither terrifically tall nor short, but somewhere closer to tall. The whole of Karel's family had dark grey –almost black even- hair, but all by custom would wear their hair in a ponytail extending partway between the shoulders and waist. Karel was no exception. He dressed in the same traditional clothes and wore the same style of hair. However, his spirit was miraculously different. Whereas the nearly everyone of his family was collected, serious, and dark, Karel was cheery and bright. The only thing Karel was serious about was growing stronger. It seemed to be an innate feature in the males in the family to desire to become more powerful. On the other hand, the females were bound by tradition to be as feminine as possible, wearing kimonos and only using tessen, or iron fans, for self-defense.

Krael attached the specially made weights onto Karel's arms and legs. Instead of being concentrated in one place, the weight was spread out on each arm and leg so the weights were like extra sleeves or pant legs – simply heavier. Karel's eyes widened at the new feelings of the restraints. It was not easy for him to move. Heck, Karel only weighed 40 pounds. Having an extra half of your weight is not easy for most anyone, especially if you're young. To Karel, it felt like having two swords weights strapped to each arm and leg.

"Whoa!" cried Karel as he stumbled around.

"So you see. It is far heavier than you had imagined." Krael instructed, "You are to keep those weights on every day and to only remove them when I so dictate."

"What!" yelled Karel, "That's totally unfair!"

"Very well then, you shall also to wear an additional weight – on your chest."

"Eh?"

"Or do you want to make it more?"

Karel bowed low, and then abruptly fell over, his face slightly stained with the moss.

"No Father," he mumbled into the grass.

Krael chuckled darkly as he attached another specially made five-pound weight as a sort of breastplate on Karel's chest. Karel slowly struggled to stand. It was one leg, then the other, little by little, standing up. He gradually stood absolutely straight, and tenuously took one step with his sandal. One step. Another step. Slowly but surely, his gait started to become normalized.

"These feel really weird…"

"Ah," said Karel's father, "but you are becoming accustomed to their weight. As time goes on, more and more weight will be added. Now! 20 laps around the hillside!"

"WHAT!" ………

As time went on, Karel became stronger and stronger under the tutelage of his father. After a year of weight training, Karel was allowed to study swordsmanship using a bokken (wooden sword). Also during the course of the same year, Karel's sister, Karla, was born…

The night was very still. The dark violet, almost black sky quivered ominously without the light of the moon. Not a single star twinkled in that dreary night. The clouds buried each one like the undertaker lowers a soulless body. Far below the outreaches of the skies, a mother cried out in pain. Her cries are soon joined by a smaller voice. Soon, both are quieted as a peace endears their hearts to each other.

"It is a girl," whispered the doctor.

Karel's mother, Sharon, gazed upon the newborn baby with warm eyes,

"Her name will be… Karla."

And far, far above, in spite of the heavy cloud cover, one single star miraculously appeared in the sky and shined brightly.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you** I-am-Erk **as the first reviewer – as well as to everyone else who took the time to take a look at this story- please keep on reviewing! Karel's story 

Chapter 2

"SINGLE STRIKE OF THE LEAF!"

This bold declaration was made from a six-year-old Karel wielding a wooden sword. The wooden sword was brought down upon a straw dummy with all of the little boy's strength, which was quite a lot for such a small boy.

A large snap was heard from the dummy. It cracked and buckled then fell.

"Yes! I did it…" Karel started.

-Flashback-

'Twas after Krael had demonstrated this technique to Karel, when he instructed him,

"Karel, when you can make this dummy snap with this technique, you have done every movement correctly. When you can do what I can, you have mastered it."

-End Flashback-

A morose calm reached Karel as the signature west wind of the Sacae plains swept up dried leaves left over from autumn, making them fly overhead for effect.

"I did it, but I have not come even close to mastering it."

As harbinger, a chilly breeze signaled the arrival of Karel's father and mentor.

"And that is because you do not understand."

"Yes – I do not understand. Please… tell me how."

"This is a subject that cannot be told – you must discover it on your own."

"But…"

"The only help I offer is that you must relax your muscles to do this technique – preferably on every action using a sword."

"What…?"

But Krael had already disappeared.

Sighing, Karel went back to hard work. While trying to perfect his technique, his father's words kept echoing in his mind.

"…must discover it on your own…"

"…must relax your muscles…"

Needless to say, Karel's mind was going haywire.

"Relax and master the technique? Has Father gone mad?" Karel thought, "I have to tense my muscles and flex to be strong… don't I?"

Karel kept on practicing.

**Change of scene**

"I, Krael, request a formal division between the Kraein style and the Ken style."

"You are denied," said one elder almost immediately.

Krael stood up.

"This is ridiculous! Time and time again have I asked for this simple task and yet you deny. The last pathetic link that our styles share is the single strike of the leaf, a most basic technique in your eyes. The only reason you cannot allow the divide is because you are afraid of our power!"

"This issue has been brought up repeatedly and our stance still remains that-" the elder trailed off, "you have a son correct?"

"Yes, he's six, but what does this have to do with-"

"Does he practice swordsmanship?" interrupted the elder.

"Of course, but he has had started recently and-"

"Well, then," interrupted the elder yet again, "we can be lenient. If your son is willing to face someone from the Ken dojo in a 'friendly' duel, and win, your entire style will be liberated. However, were he to lose…" a crazed glint of greed shined in the elder's eyes, and his voice became rising and dark, "not only will your style be forcefully assimilated into the Ken style, but you son's life will be forfeit!"

The other elders shifted nervously in their seats. This issue had surely come up before, but nothing like this had ever happened. Krael's words had obviously reached a tender point in the arrogant teachings of this particular elder. You see, the Ken dojo was supposedly the first school of swords in Sacae and became very famous for its use of parries and special techniques-that is, blocking and using sword techniques that have names. In other words, it merely had just the few basic slashes and thrusts, but powerful blocking and special techniques. They say that every sword style originated from the Ken style, but that's just myth. However, what's not a myth is the fact that the Kraein style, that of Krael and his ancestors did in fact break off of the Ken style – evident by the fact that they share certain techniques. However, in Krael's lifetime, he has slowly been destroying every link they share until there was but one left: the single strike of the leaf.

There was no way that Krael's son who's only six, could defeat the person they had in store. All the elders knew that and wanted the Kraein style for their own. But, good cop bad cop…

"Krael, don't listen to this fool. He knows nothing. We can easily settle this matter through words-"

"I accept the terms," stated Krael

"Well of course you couldn't… what?"

"I accept the terms, must I repeat myself?"

The elders shifted glances excitedly.

"Then the duel will be 7 sunsets from today in the practice fields. That is all."

Krael spun around, faced away from the conference and left with the usual calm façade that he so often held. But… deep inside he was seething.

**Change of scene**

"A duel? Really? Where is it?" asked an excited Karel.

"It will be at the training fields. It will be a good chance for you to gain experience.

"Wow. A real live duel. I can only imagine the participants."

Karel's mind was visualizing two broad men with steel swords clashing visciously, sparking ruby and sapphire.

"Oh yes, the participants… You're one of them."

"………………………………………WHAT? WHO AM I FIGHTING?"

"I have not the faintest idea, but guessing from the foolish elders' looks, it was someone strong, so train fast and hard."

"I don't even know how to use my sword besides swinging it around and the single strike of the leaf."

"Well, use what you know-master the only technique you know."

"How… can I use only one technique to defeat a foe?"

Back at the Ken dojo…

"Please Lloyd, fight this boy – it's for the good of the clan."

"Hmph. I refuse."

"But why?"

"I shall not do battle with a boy half my age."

"If you defeat him, all the techniques of the Kraein style will be ours."

"Hm… He's six…"

"Yes, an easy win – the boy in all likelihood hasn't the slightest appreciation for the Kraein style."

A brief silence.

"…I will fight him then… Now leave me!"

"Of course."

The elder turned facing away from Lloyd, the genius of the clan, as well as the heir. The elder's face quickly contorted from a placating expression to a severely annoyed one.

"It was wearisome convincing him – I'm glad I avoided telling him the consequence of that boy's defeat, or he would have refused outright. Hm… Lloyd doesn't seem to display the character traits that usually appear at about his age. Anyone else, besides his father, would have immediately accepted. Lloyd seems not to be an opportunist. Why does he care about fairness?"

Back at the training grounds, Karel had been training for six consecutive days and nights, increasing his physical strength and speed, as well as perfecting his technique.

"I've trained so long, but I haven't moved another step in mastering this technique…"

A dummy fell.

"Darn! Single strike of the leaf!"

**Crack**

"Single strike of the leaf!"

**Crack**

"Grarr!"

From a distance away, Krael buried his face in his hands and sighed,

"If he progresses at this rate, our clan will be forcefully absorbed. And he will surely…"

**CRACK** Another dummy split in two as if lightning had struck.

"…die."


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry for delaying thing until now… I've had school, piano, vacations… all those things to do. So for being patient… You get another chapter for the price of one! ($999) This one that is along w/ Chapter 2.

Karel's Story 

Chapter 3 – Fight for my life

The day of the duel had arrived faster than seemed possible. It was too obvious that Karel wasn't ready – at least not mentally.

"Ah! Call-it-off! Call-it-off! I don't wanna do it mom!

"But you were so excited at first."

"Not anymore… Not anymore…"

A new voice, the voice of Karel's father interrupts his son's ramblings,

"Well then, let us leave, Karel."

"Yes."

All contrary thoughts had to be eliminated with Krael's commands. After saying good-bye to his mother, sensei and student left the house and started towards the training grounds. They turned onto the forest path and walked for a short while. As soon as the house was out of sight, Krael called out to a seemingly clear path,

"Come out you arrogant fools. You hold your swords like assassins, yet for planning to kill Karel, you waited until I was with him. Did you honestly believe you could defeat me?"

Two dark, masked figures appeared from the side of the road, directly in front of the road.

"Heh heh heh. What chance do you think you have against the two of us…? The top ranked assassins of the Ken dojo!"

The figure that spoke removed his facemask.

"Remember my face – it's the last thing you'll ever see-"

Krael had lopped the big talk assassin's head off instantaneously. He didn't even appear to draw his sword. He was merely there, next to a headless body.

"Your friend talks – my apologies – talked the talk…"

The other assassin hadn't moved from his spot. Shrugging, he spun his dagger expertly. He thought,

"I don't wish to kill this young boy… but failure means death…"

The assassin dashed towards Karel. However, Karel's eyes had but one object to view. The man that his father had beheaded. The assassin's head was cleanly severed, a horrifying expression plastered permanently on his face. The body had fallen; not a single drop of blood was spilled. That's how fast the process of decapitation was.

Karel desperately wanted to vomit. But something was stopping him. It was the tension. The absolute tension of battle held him up by his hairs. Karel might not be kill-ready, but he was definitely battle-ready. Karel avoided the first hit, but the follow-up was coming faster, faster than Karel could dodge…

**CLANG**

Metal clashed against metal with a loud, odd reverberating sound, causing Karel to shield his ears with his hands.

**CLANG**

**CLANG**

Krael first knocked the balance off, then the guard, then finally struck the assassin's word away, making it clatter uselessly against the ground. Stepping closer, Krael pointed his sword at the man's neck – threatening to kill.

"FATHER! DON'T!"

Karel spoke,

"Well done, quite impressive. You survived three whole clashes. That's three more than most that challenge me to a fight."

"Hmph," the assassin spoke, " don't patronize me. Just get it over with."

"Well, there's the problem. Karel obviously doesn't like bloodshed for one, but there's something much more important. You appeared to be holding back."

"!"

"You didn't really want to kill Karel did you? Well, I can't kill you then – at least not here, not now. That would be pointless. Rid yourself of the way of the assassin and fight me as something worthier – a paladin perhaps, or a hero."

Krael released his sword point and sheathed his sword. He marched on forward.

"Come, Karel."

"Y-yes."

Karel hurried forward to accompany his father, but not without sparing one last glance backwards at the man who had been sent to take his life. The man slumped and collapsed onto his back. He took off his mask to reveal a handsome face, yet scarred terribly with old wounds of battle. Looking higher, he stared up at the marvelously blue sky, the clouds that glowed with the light of that coin in the sky called the sun, the calling birds – everything.

"Heh… a hero, huh? Ha…"

Going back to the protagonist, he was approaching the training grounds with his father. As he did, some of the elders gasped as they saw the pair coming.

"Weren't they supposed to be taken care of?"

"I thought they were but-"

"The assassins must have failed!"

"Impossible! They were the best we had. They couldn't have-" this elder trailed off as a messenger whispered in his ear,

"Saiba was beheaded. Of Brendan, there was no sign… except…"

"Except what?"

"This."

A large circular stone was brought to the attention of the elder.

"What is this? You carried this boulder all the way with you?"

"Yes, I used the alternate path and dragged it back."

"What is it? What could be so important about this useless rock?"

The messenger shifted the other side of the large slab of granite to the elder's view. The elder sharply took an intake of breath. Stabbed deep inside the stone was the slightly curved dagger of Brendan Reed. The messenger whispered,

"It was slammed so hard into the boulder that I could not remove it. So I had to carry this all the way with me."

"I see. And what of the remains of Saiba?"

"Disposed of on the spot."

"Very well. Dismissed!"

The messenger quickly disappeared.

"Hm… So Brendan. You deserted us after all. And what of your son? Will you desert him as well?"

Meanwhile, the pair of Krael and Karel had finally arrived on the fields.

"We… have arrived!"

"Well then," called out an elder, "without any further delay, let the match begin."

A million hands pushed Karel out onto the arena. He stumbled visibly, just a bit, before standing straight and tall, or as straight and tall as he could, before his opponent.

Karel thought,

"This guy is tall… He looks strong too. Maybe… Maybe I should just give up…"

"Karel!" whispered Krael, "you cannot lose. Because if you do through either battle or default, it was agreed that you'd be executed!"

"…What… But why?" asked Karel in a small tone of voice.

"It's pointless to ask that – just remember that it's the consequence."

Karel had sadness. He knew that his father had known beforehand and agreed. Now… this was a fight for his life. Betting his life, there was likely something on the line. His eyes watered just the slightest amount and as he turned around to face his opponent once more, some of the particles shimmered out of his eyes making the light in front of him sparkle. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in anger.

"Why Father… Why? This has become a… fight for my life!" he thought.

He had visibly calmed down, and he opened his eyes fiercely. They were clear now – completely determined. There was no hesitation or fear. His opponent was totally unnerved.

"What valor this kid has," thought Lloyd, "perhaps this won't be as boring as I thought."

Both participants were brought to the center ring and handed bokken. The judge deemed both were ready.

"BEGIN!"

Lloyd immediately rushed forwards as Karel leapt backwards. Lloyd started a straight slash at Karel. Karel ducked under it while making a slash at Lloyd's knees. Lloyd, jumping, was frankly astounded.

"How can a six-year-old have such speed and reactions? I wasn't as good when I was six!"

Eyeing each other warily, the opponents circled. That ferocious look of determination never once left Karel's eyes. This time, Karel was the one rushing forwards. Karel swung his wooden sword straight down.

"I can parry this one and counter!" thought Lloyd.

The arc from Karel's slash was moving down as Lloyd's parry was coming up. A large **SHTACK** sound was heard as the two collided. A circle of dust emanated from the two combatants' strikes. The two struggled against each other.

"What in the world? I was supposed to be able to counter this one! But the pressure pushing down on my sword is amazing! I can barely keep this up…"

Lloyd dropped the pressure on Karel's bokken and sidestepped left. Karel, still pushing down, fell off balance.

"Now!"

Lloyd swung his sword with a free collision against Karel's back, causing the six-year-old to fall and roll.

"But if this is the speed and strength, I can match it and defeat this boy."

Both swordfighters breathed hard, as sweat started to appear on their foreheads. As such, they were startled to hear Krael's voice ring out.

"Karel! You have my permission to take them off!"

"Huh? Take what off?"

"The weights!"

"Hooray!"

Lloyd was in disbelief.

"He was moving that fast and hard with weights on? How heavy are his weights?"

Karel took off the weights on his body – the breastplate, the sleeves, the pant legs. Taking them all in his hands, neatly folded, he accidentally tripped, letting the weights fly. They landed in around the same spot – well, not really landed. More like… crash-landed. The weights crushed a good portion of grass down to the earth, making an imprint.

Lloyd walked up to the black heavy sleeves and lifted them up.

"What the hell? Each of these must be at least ten pounds, making a grand total of 50 pounds. I think I'll have to get serious."

Lloyd stood up and readied his sword, his face determined now. An elder questioned,

"Is Lloyd losing?"

"No," replied another elder, "he has defeated every opponent he has faced, and that shall not change now. He isn't referred as a genius for nothing."

"Wow!" cried Karel, "I can really move faster!"

"That's nothing."

"Huh?"

"I said that's nothing, " repeated Lloyd, "I was holding back. And now, I have now reason to."

Karel dashed towards his opponent at top speed.

"Haaaaaa!"

"Shadow strike!"

"Huh?"

Karel tried to block the seemingly slow strike only to be slashed dozens of times.

"How… did your bokken go through mine?"

"Techniques are often slippery like that… But you wouldn't know that because you don't have any techniques! You're just relying on brute force! Ha!"

"No… I have one…"

Karel raised his bokken above his head – the starting pose for the most basic technique in the Ken style.

"Hah! You have the single strike of the leaf? How pathetic. Crescent slash!"

"Single strike of the leaf!"

The two techniques clashed, but the crescent slash was obviously stronger as its power blasted Karel backwards.

"It's been amusing – I'll give you that, kid. Now it's time to finish this duel."

Lloyd flipped his sword backhand and positioned it behind him.

"And now the technique I've been perfecting is finally ready. I'm going to use it on you. And it's called… The rushing tiger claws!"

Lloyd swung the bokken in an intricate repeating pattern, remaining in the same spot, faster and faster until it imitated the silhouette of a roaring tiger. With the image fully formed, he rushed forward with a yell.

"Gwuaaaah!"

Karel saw the attack coming. He was done for – he knew it. His usually tense muscles became completely relaxed. Suddenly, a flash completely invigorated his memory:

-Flashback-

"Single strike of the leaf!" bellowed Krael.

The bokken was brought down upon the dummy. The difference between student and sensei's technique was great indeed. Whereas Karel had managed to snap the dummy in half, Krael… Krael had completely **DECIMATED** the dummy. What was left was a pile of dust and ash.

-Flashback-

"… must relax your muscles…"

-End Flashbacks-

Karel felt an enormous, powerful sensation take over his body. The sensation tingled even in his toes and extended to his fingertips. His arms raised the bokken completely by themselves. 'The rushing tiger claws' was coming closer and closer. There was a pulse that radiated from Karel's body. Visibly blue threads of energy flowed from Karel and formed a vortex. Karel's arms slashed the bokken down.

"**SINGLE STRIKE OF THE LEAF!"**

A huge explosion rocked the area as pieces of rubble flew out. Dust shadowed the entire area. Lloyd made his way out of the cloud and coughed hard.

"Sorry, kid. I won't let you win this…!"

A jolt of pain struck Lloyd from all sides as the effects of the clash came about.

"Aaaaaargh!"

Lloyd fell to the earth. He tried moving everything. Just his left arm worked. Said arm grasped his bokken tightly. Lloyd plunged the tip of the bokken into the earth with his shaky left hand in an attempt to stand. Suddenly, the weakened bokken shattered into a million pieces, leaving Lloyd back on the ground.

"No. I can't lose to a six-year-old. It's just not fathomable. I'm supposed to be a genius. What am I…?"

"You're beat," declared a completely tired Karel, "and I win!"

The judge, coming back onto the field, was in shock. The genius of the clan just lost. To a six-year-old. Someone who just started learning swordsmanship.

"Hey judge," said Karel, "are you gonna declare me winner or just stand there?"

"Oh! Right! Uh… Winner: Karel."

Krael smirked.


End file.
